


You Belong To Me

by notcrindy



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: And abuse in general, Gen, M/M, but it ends well i think, hm, i don't know how to use tags even after all these times, kind of a character study on Taako from TV using one phrase, some hints at sexual abuse kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 12:00:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13213305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcrindy/pseuds/notcrindy
Summary: Different takes on a phrase as seen through the eyes of the wizard Taako from TV, and what it's meant to him over the years.





	You Belong To Me

The first time anyone uses it around Taako, he’s young. 

Startlingly young, actually; he’d be surprised if he’s even hit a decade yet, and he  _ knows _ he can’t be yet twelve because they’re still being passed around among various blood relatives. He’s young enough that Lup looks like nearly his exact mirror image, young enough that they can get away with pretending to be one another on purpose without their insides getting all squirmy and the little individualities crying out to assert themselves. Young enough that up to this point, they’ve held hands almost constantly, separated only when necessary or practical.

Of course, it makes sense for Lup to be the first one to say it. Of course, the only reason Lup would ever feel any reason to make some kind of declaration of ownership would be if she felt threatened that anyone else would be taking Taako away, and it’s not a happy memory. He’s been forced away from her for one of the first times because he did a wrong and Lup didn’t and shut away in the barn. Smells like cow shit. Probably has cow shit. He thinks all of this, bitterly, in a mix of languages (some of which he’ll forget later).

First, his grandfather forbids Lup to come near. Eventually, their aunt is the one (like always) to show a little mercy and tells Lup that she’s free to venture out there whenever she’d like to, to pay Taako a little company. It’s not a  _ perfect _ solution to what Taako will recognize pretty easily in his later years as child abuse, but it’s something, and as he pouts and glowers at the surroundings from his spot on a bale of hay he can’t help but relax a little at her voice.

“Taako?”

His ears perk up, and he’s still determined to be miserable. It’s dark and smelly in the barn, only slivers of sunlight to be found, and he absolutely  _ refuses _ to look after any of the animals. That’s giving in, obviously. That’s how they learn how to break you. Still, he knows he feels a little better and scoots closer to the door, trying to hide any smiling in his voice.

“What d’you want, Lulu.”

“Tia said I could pay you a visit,” she says through the door, “to cheer you up. Is it working?”

Yes. Absolutely. Nothing cheers him up like-- “No,” he pouts. “It’s awful in here, and I’m always gettin’ in trouble, and I  _ hate _ it.” He makes a point to wrinkle his nose and look as dramatic as possible, even though she can’t see him. She can probably tell what he looks like, anyway; it’s exactly what  _ she’d _ look like in his position.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and he can tell she means it. That’s her Real Empathy voice, reserved pretty much solely for times between twins and not anyone else. He can always tell when her apologies are fake because they’re always to adults and she sports a shit-eating grin that’s difficult to miss. Fake apologies are for things like getting caught with her hands in the cookie jar;  _ real _ apologies are for things like forgetting to get her brother a cookie, too, and she always tries to make it right. 

It’s so genuine, he can’t hate it, and he sighs. “Me, too, Lup.”

“Why do they always stick you in here anyway?”

Another sigh slips out of Taako’s mouth as he rolls his eyes to the roof of the barn, squinting as little patches of light shine directly into his eyes. “‘cuz it’s Abuelito’s house.”

“Yeah?” She doesn’t buy it.

“Yeah,” he doesn’t either, but he grumbles back. “It’s Abuelito’s house and I’m his grandson, so he can do whatever he wants with me. And you too, probably. We’re  _ his, _ you know? We can’t say anything about it. Just like these stupid cows.”

There’s a moment of silence that Taako knows, by now, is being filled with his twin sister’s thoughts. “You know what, Koko?”

“What?” Taako asks. For as bitter as he is, he’s always interested in what Lup has to say.

“Abuelito is wrong.” It’s something he’s always known, but hearing it verbalized like that is really something else, and he’s almost frightened of how much conviction she holds even when they’re both so small against the whole wide world. “You’re not his.”

“Why not?” He’s just curious now, tilting his head slightly and trying to get a look at her through the splinters in the wood door.

“Because you’re  _ mine, _ stupid. You’re my Taako and I’m your Lup. You belong to  _ me. _ ”

When she says it, it makes perfect sense.

He doesn’t question it.

* * *

 

The second time he hears it, they’re older. 

Both of them are getting kind of gangly and awkward, just enough that they feel like puppies who haven’t quite grown into their gigantic feet but not enough for them to be fully grown. Taako’s growing with Lup as always, of course, but those little individualities which were so easy to ignore before have started to announce and pronounce themselves. He’s a boy, she’s a girl (this one has always been true). He likes his hair long and blonde, she likes it all chopped off and dark as can be. He paints himself like a gaudy work of art in everything passing as makeup that he possibly can, even when it clashes, and she tries to cloak herself in the gritty darkness of their surroundings, only standing out the way a slight spark stands out in a fireplace.

They’re growing together, but growing apart, too. Sometimes, it’s okay; it’s neat that they don’t always have to reintroduce themselves to every person they work with on the road, that the differences between “Taako” and “Lup” are becoming more and more obvious. Sure, jokes like passing decently for one another get sacrificed, but they’re not too bad a price to pay for making their own marks in the world. They’re both drawn to magic, naturally, but Taako picks transmutation and Lup picks evocation. Taako likes to make complicated, elegant food, and Lup will gladly eat Froot Loops until the box runs out. They’re both thieves for sure, but Lup will only steal if it serves some sort of Greater Purpose, and Taako doesn’t give a solitary fuck about anyone but the two of them.

One of the most obvious differences that becomes apparent very quickly is what they’ll be willing to do for a little dough on the side. Lup gets involved pretty heavily in some underground street fighting bullshit. She’s lost several teeth that she wasn’t set to lose just yet, and when she fights in the ring even though she’s quick and graceful and one badass motherfucker, Taako can’t help but worry for her. She stumbles back to him sometimes covered in black eyes and bruises and spitting out blood, and he wishes she wouldn’t, but meals’re always on her for a little while and since she’s an elf she heals up quick.

Since they’re twins, they’re even, anyway. Taako learns how to use his body too, and he does it by spending an absurd amount of time each day making sure his hair is properly groomed and the makeup is enough of an eye-catcher and his smile can dazzle the nearest passersby, heels hitting the pavement decisively enough to turn more than a few heads. He doesn’t like the street fighting one bit, even if it’s entertaining, but Lup just flat out  _ hates _ what he’s started doing for a few bucks.

“You look like a man of needs and  _ taste, _ ” he smiles like he’s rehearsed it a thousand times and maybe he has, wide and wild. “Am I right?”

But if you’ve got it,  _ flaunt _ it, natch.

It’s funny when they both stop and think about how young they are because they both agree that they are almost unquestionably grown up. People underestimate Lup sometimes in the ring, because she’s just a child, and she can’t possibly kick huge amounts of ass. But people look at stuff like that differently in Taako’s chosen hobby, and sometimes it gets him in some interesting situations. People have some interesting questions.

“So when I pay for you,” they ask, “does that make you like,  _ mine _ now?”

“For that amount of money, my friend,” he coos and croons, “Taako can be whatever you  _ need _ him to be.”

Usually, this just means doing whatever gets people off until they’re somehow more bored than he is, and they fork over the dough. Sometimes, people don’t  _ know _ what they want, and Taako is careful and gentle with those poor fools and tries to give ‘em the best fuck they’ve ever had (and hopefully not one of his worst). And occasionally you have people like the next particular person to use this phrase.

“You belong to  _ me _ now, whore. So do what I say.”

He stumbles back with blood and bruises the likes of which Lulu is usually sporting, hands shaking and full of cash, and they eat at one of the finest diners in the goddamn city for all his trouble.

“He’s wrong, anyway,” she says as she shovels food into her mouth. “You’re  _ my _ Taako. Not his. Not anyone’s.”

When she says it, it makes perfect sense.

He doesn’t question it.

* * *

The third time he hears it, Taako is alone.

He’s always been alone, of course. There’s nothing in his memory to ever indicate anything else. It’s always been him on the road fending for himself, and sure it was a rough upbringing as any could’ve ever been, but it taught him a lot of things. Things like what was required of him to get ahead in his business, if he was ever prepared to make it in showbiz. Things like applying makeup  _ over _ and  _ after _ the bruises, not strictly before. Things like learning the value of attaching yourself to someone with unflinching faith in you and enough money to make things happen.

He’s just gotten through with another show in the Underdark, practically killed it ‘cuz Taako is popular among audiences of all ages and creeds. He’s lingering a little bit backstage, ‘cuz he  _ loves _ to meet his fans, really. It’s something he genuinely delights in, being able to make people’s days just by being himself. After all, they pay  _ him _ so much time and attention, it’s only fair that he returns the favor.

There’s a little drow girl holding a poster up excitedly. “Hi, um, my name’s Ren an’ I love your show ‘n’ I love your cookin’.” What a sweetheart. “I saw how you were out there turnin’ stuff into other stuff ‘n’ it was somethin’  _ else!! _ ”

He beams. “I do dazzle the eye, huh? Glad you enjoyed it. What else can I do for you, little Ren?”

“Um, well I was just,” she stammers, clearly shy. What a cutie. “wondering if you’d autograph my--”

“Not a problem at all, pumpkin! Here you go.”

With one scribble of a pink glow-in-the-dark pen, he’s probably just about changed that young girl’s life, and her eyes go wide as saucers as she gasps and clings it to her chest, thanking him a million times from the bottom of her heart,  _ really. _ He smiles and waves as the last of ‘em go, and greets a frowning Sazed after all is said and done.

“Went a little long,” Sazed complains.

“Well, y’know how it is, baby. Taako  _ belongs _ out there on that stage, making all those people happy.”

There’s something dark and angry in those eyes that Taako doesn’t want to address today. “Yes, I suppose that’s true,” Sazed agrees. “You belong to them out there… ...but here?”

He pushes Taako up against a wall, something lustful and frightening and exciting in his eyes. “You belong to  _ me. _ ”

When Sazed says it, it makes perfect sense.

Taako doesn’t question it.

* * *

 

Eventually, it’s become a sort of different situation. Years out of that “Sizzle it Up” fiasco, and Taako’s far from alone again, working with two other goons who don’t know dick about anything, same as him. They’re on some sort of magical mission at the moment involving a town so timesick it can’t stop letting him die, on a loop, over and over again, and he’s just hatched a scheme so clever he probably gets to be all dramatic about it the way he likes and everything.

“My name is Taako,” he says, “and you work for me now.”

It’s a different turn of phrase than the ones before, but he still isn’t surprised in the least that it reduces poor Roswell to nothin’ but clay. Stuff like that just kind of does that sometimes, sort of just makes you lose your composure, makes you lose yourself just a little bit, and it’s a bad trick to pull on someone else. He’s always been everyone else’s; he’s never tried to demand that of anyone else.

Of course he’d be shit at it.

“Junebug” works better, but it doesn’t matter.

He’s bad at commanding things, owning things, treasuring things.

As he says it and Roswell falls apart, it makes perfect sense.

Taako doesn’t question it.

 

* * *

 

 

The last time, it’s years after any of that, and he’s lying in bed with his Bone Daddy at his side. It’s summer, so he’s snugglin’, and things feel real nice overall as he watches Kravitz sleep (even though he probably doesn’t need to).

Which is why he hates that he brings it up at all.

“Um, Kravvy?” He whispers, trying to be so gentle.

He stirs from his sleep easily and quickly. “Yes, Taako? What is it? Is something wrong?”

Kravitz is always doing silly things like looking out for him. Taako shakes his head and laughs a little. “Naw, babe, it’s cool… I just um… I just wanted to ask you a question.” Kravitz is probably mad at him for interrupting his sleep for something so stupid, God, he sounds  _ so _ stupid, he’s going to sound even  _ worse _ in a second and he just knows it.

“What is it, love?” He turns to look right at him, all of his vulnerabilities and secret insecurities and masks melting away the same way Krav’s face melts away. He hates the way Kravitz has a habit of doing that, reducing him down to his basic elements, passing any of his defenses.

“Am I like,  _ yours _ now? Like, do I  _ belong _ to you?”

He’s turned away now, lying flat on his back on purpose. He’s biting his lip so hard it might bleed, waiting for a response, but trying to seem disaffected. Kravitz would be an okay person to belong to, actually. He wouldn’t mind that so much at all. But he might reject him, or reject the idea, and he might be making things awkward or weird or--

“Of course not, Taako.”

Damn it.

“Because you belong to yourself.”

The tears hit his eyes before he can even register what’s happening. “What? Get out.”

“I won’t,” Kravitz says. “I love you,  _ because _ you belong to yourself, and you belong to yourself so brilliantly.”

He’s trying to blink through the tears, just figuring any of this out. “Sounds fake, but uh, okay.” He’s sobbing.

“It doesn’t, though, does it?” Kravitz is petting his hair, a little anxious that he’s said the wrong thing.

“No,” he sobs, and this time he’s smiling and sobbing and laughing as he cuddles the Grim Reaper in the best cuddle of the entire Goddamn Year. Seriously, they should win  _ awards _ for that shit.

“No, it makes -- it makes perfect sense.”

As he lies in Kravitz’s arms, belonging only to himself, Taako doesn’t question it.

**Author's Note:**

> uh so anyway there you go. i just love running with those prompt things and am a huge nerd so i had to do one myself!!! i hope it's... okay. 8D;; yep. bye. <3; love you all.


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